


His Curse

by HannibabestheCannibabes



Category: Maleficent (2014), Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, One Shot, Romance, True Love's Kiss, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibabestheCannibabes/pseuds/HannibabestheCannibabes
Summary: 'He loved her. He had always known. It was perhaps inevitable. They had been each other’s companions, each other’s sole companions, for years and years. He had sat with her in silence...been beside her in her moments of triumph...And then at night, as her slender frame was racked with grieving sobs, her tears enough to cut deep into his chest.'Diaval has loved Maleficent for years, and now he faces losing her to a threat he had never foreseen. True Love. Unrequited Diaval/Maleficent. Maleficent/Aurora.
Relationships: Aurora & Maleficent (Disney), Aurora/Maleficent (Disney), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney), malora
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	His Curse

**His Curse**

He loved her. Was in love with her. He had always known. It was perhaps inevitable. They had been each other’s companions, each other’s sole companions, for years and years. He had been there, by her side, for every moment. He had sat with her in silence as she herself had sat, still as stone, unmoving for days, her mind far beyond her body. He had been beside her in her moments of triumph, had watched the wicked smiles that had graced her lips with a joy that made his own heart swell. And then at night, as her slender frame was racked with grieving sobs, for what she had lost, for what she would never have, he had been close, her tears enough to cut deep into his chest.

So yes, beyond all possible notions, Diaval loved his mistress. He did not say, did not dare hope, but he allowed himself to love her. His own blessing. His own curse.

* * *

He did not see the threat until it was too late. It was perhaps his way, or maybe the remnants of his crow’s eyes, to miss all threats beyond his range of sight. And how could he have seen? He had sat with Maleficent as they watched Aurora grow. He did not notice when his companion’s insults halted, or when her absent gaze began to focus on the girl, her red lips parting upon her sight. How was he to see? He had enough with the pounding in his chest, the itch across his skin, to be so close yet never close enough.

‘She grows well.’ His mistress’ words caught him by surprise. He had not been looking, gaze too focused elsewhere. _How the shadows caught the sharp contours of her face_. ‘In the human kingdom, the little beastie would be married and locked away by now. It would almost be a shame. She was betrothed at one point, was she not? What was his name?’ She frowned as he failed to respond. ‘Are you listening at all, Diaval?’

‘Of course,’ he murmured, flustered, much to Maleficent’s curious stare. ‘She’s betrothed to a Philip, a prince from a neighbouring kingdom.’

‘Ah yes, Philip.’ She sat back against the tree with a wry smile. ‘There’s a name that rings with mediocrity.’ 

‘Don’t be so harsh, he may yet surprise you. He could be the true love to lift the curse.’ He should have seen it then, in the way Maleficent’s eyes darkened, the thinning of her lips, but his head was far too caught up in his heart.

* * *

‘Her touch burns me, Diaval.’

They had flown, an event he had never thought he would get to experience with her. He had flown straight, too entranced by the light on her face, the almost childlike joy in her eyes, to do naught but watch. At one point she had laughed, a laugh he had heard so rarely from her lips, and he had thought his crow’s heart too tiny to contain the sudden burst of love he had felt. 

But now they sat, in a clearing hidden deep in the woods, alone bar the trees that turned their ears and shielded them from the curiosity of the World, and Maleficent’s voice felt heavy in the thick Summer air.

‘She burns me like iron.’

‘Who?’

She raised a single eyebrow in his direction. ‘You are my oldest and only friend, Diaval. Do not insult me now by pretending you do not understand.’ she met his eyes in a solemn stare, before turning from him as if in shame. ‘The girl. Aurora. Her touch seems to burn upon my skin. Hotter than anything. Painful but...something else.’  
‘You love her.’

He had fooled himself. He had watched as Maleficent woke the princess with a kiss, _with true love’s kiss_ , with a sinking stomach so easily betrayed by treacherous human tears. He had awaited her loss. He had soared above the humans for long enough to realise what must happen next, and of the part he would not play. And yet, nothing had changed. Aurora may have taken the human throne, may have taken the Moors’ crown, but all felt as it had always been. Neither faerie nor girl acknowledged such events, and Diaval had let himself believe that maybe, if neither ever realised, maybe his heart could yet be happy. He had been naive. 

‘I love her as I have always loved her. Nothing has changed for...this.’

‘It has.’ _Every word tasted as ash on his tongue_. ‘You are in love with her.’

His mistress scoffed. ‘I have long since hardened that part of me.’

‘I watch you. I see far more than you would give me credit for. I see how you look at her, see how you watch her.’ He swallowed, his mouth dry with the distaste of such reality. ‘I see how you want her.’

‘You mock, Diaval.’ But her face, already so pale, had lost further colour with every word he spoke, her eyes wider. _She had been seen_. ‘You who know my past, must also know such notions to be fantasy.’

‘I know what I have seen. What I see whenever she visits. You woke her with true love’s kiss.’

‘It was my curse, that was all.’

‘There was only one way to lift that curse.’

‘I cannot be in love with her. I cannot.’ He wanted to pull her to him, to erase the horror in the expression on her face. He wanted nothing more than to hold her to his chest, to wrap arms like wings around her, protect her now from her own heart, wounding with every beat. ‘She is but a child, she is not yet eighteen. And his child. Stefan’s child. A child I wanted dead, whose life has long been plagued by my pain, my wickedness. How can I love her? How can I possibly deserve her, Diaval, when I have been the sole curse in her life?’

‘I don’t think love follows such rules.’ He tried to be soft, but was met with cold scorn.

‘Do you think I do not know such? I have loved, and all I received in return was misery. Suffering. I will not do such again.’ She snapped, before stopping suddenly, as if catching herself, tilting her head back with eyes closed, to rest on the bark behind her. Diaval resisted looking for too long at the dark hollow of her throat, forcing away the thought of his lips against her skin. He was flushed when Maleficent peered at him through one half-open eye. ‘You must think of me as an old fool, Diaval. You who have been by my side for so long. You certainly look at me so.’

‘I do not consider you a fool.’

‘You have seen it all this time?’

‘In every moment.’ He forced a smile across his face as she closed her eyes once more. Maleficent stretched out a hand to take his, and he felt his own skin smoulder in her grasp.

* * *

He still liked to fly alone. Not that he didn’t enjoy flying with her. He did. Flight was the one thing they alone shared, now Aurora helped govern the Moors. But solitary flight was different. Solitary flight reminded him that, somewhere, he was still a crow. Away from humanity. Away from feelings, from emotions, from the drop in his stomach he felt every time he saw them together. Away from the crimson that exposed him every time her eyes met his, however mockingly. Away from the throb of unfamiliar regions every time he pictured her alone, onyx cloak slipping from bare shoulders…

‘News, Diaval?’ Distracted, he landed hard on newly unstable legs beside his mistress, who stared with a combination of exasperation and amusement. ‘Has your mind been elsewhere?’

His face reddened. ‘No.’

‘Then what news? What do you bring me from the human kingdom?’ She may have her wings once more, and Stefan’s body lay deep in the ground unmourned, but Diaval remained her eyes, her ears, when it came to the human realm. Ghosts cast long shadows.

‘There has been much change since...well, since everything.’

‘And Aurora?’ He knew she missed the girl, pulled away to wear a crown too heavy for her head, to govern a kingdom almost too fractured to heal. ‘How is she?’

Diaval hesitated, shifting awkwardly, a hope not unlike that of his feathered brethren. ‘There is talk that Prince Philip plans to ask Aurora for her hand.’ He paused. ‘There is talk she plans to accept.’

He had not known what to expect from such news. He remembered Maleficent’s wrath after Stefan’s marriage, the nights that veered manically from empty stares to vengeful fury. Magic that seemed to escape her fingertips, betraying her wrath in its intensity. He had prepared himself for much of the same.

He was, however, surprised, to be met only with a murmur, spat into the darkness. ‘And so I am betrayed again.’

It was worse, he realised, this silent pain. He’d rather her scream, than to turn from him with such aching eyes. It caged once more the rogue part of him that had dared to feel hope at such news, as if Aurora’s marriage would push her to him in its riptide, as if he could ever think to be the replacement for that which she had lost. It forced him against better judgement to reach out a hand, to take hold of her arm, and to refuse to wither under her stare.

‘Let go of me, Diaval.’

‘Not unless you listen to me.’

‘I will turn you into far worse than a mere dog.’

‘Then do it. Turn me into a dog, or a worm, or some grotesque creature of your own fancy. But listen first.’ Her stare had not softened, but she had stopped, and he released her arm slowly, as one released a beast untamed. ‘Aurora hasn’t betrayed you. She is not her father.’

‘She will marry that wretched boy.’

‘Because she does not realise that she has a choice.’ His words seemed to leave his mouth before he realised they had formed, driven solely by the hurt that had painted itself across Maleficent’s face; in the shadows below her eyes, the contours of her skin, the weight that pulled at the corners of her lips. He seemed to see them all and wish only one thing, to somehow wash them all away. ‘What Stefan did to you, when he…’

She held up a hand. ‘I do not need a reminder.’ She had turned from him only to sit herself at the base of a tree, to rest her great horns against it with a sigh. ‘But I assume you have a point?’

‘What he did was out of cruelty. It was knowing, solely for human greed.’ Her wings seemed to flutter, as if in memory. ‘But Aurora is not cruel. She does not know the pain she inflicts.’ He stopped. ‘You have not told her.’

His words hung more heavily in the air than he anticipated, interrupted only with her whisper, barely a breath. ‘If she refused, Diaval, I could not bear it.’

‘You have not given her chance…’

‘How could she not? She has made her feelings clear. I am the...evil that exists in the World.’ The memory stung her still, the wound cut deep, far below the skin, the type that time alone would fail to heal. It would take touch, love, just not that which he could provide, as desperate as his heart was to try. ‘Perhaps her prince is everything she deserves. Young, innocent. Someone like her. Someone untouched by...untouched by all.’

‘That’s just self-pity.’ He sat himself beside her, meeting her incredulous stare with a small shrug. ‘Don’t look at me like that, we both know she’d be bored within the month. If you love the girl, if you really love the girl, you lose nothing by telling her.’

‘I could lose her.’

‘You’ll lose her to Philip if you don’t. We both saw him fail to wake her, he isn’t her true love.’ He appreciated the small curve of her lips, the brightening of amber eyes in the dark. ‘But you woke her. And true love is...I have never heard of it capturing only one heart.’

‘Is that true?’

‘I do admittedly know very little, but yes, that is true. True love tends not be love that betrays.’

She could not know how the words wounded deep in his chest, stung his own heart, but she leaned back against him, resting her head against his shoulder as if in unbidden sympathy. ‘I have never thought to ask you, but you have loved?’

His hand itched for her waist, he settled instead on wrapping around her narrow shoulders. ‘Yes.’

‘What was she like?’

The question was too unexpected. He was grateful she was not looking into his face. His tongue felt too large for his mouth, it stumbled over his words, causing his face to flush. But she had closed her eyes, leant into him with warmth he had only ever imagined. ‘She was...she was powerful. Strong. Beautiful.’ He paused, taking a deep steadying breath. ‘Magnificent. She was magnificent.’ 

‘She did not feel the same?’

‘I have never told her.’

Maleficent twisted her head to look at him, noticing the pink of his cheeks, and asked gently, ‘You love her still?’

His mouth was painfully dry, aware of her soft gaze. ‘Yes.’

‘Perhaps you should tell her.’

‘There has never been a right time. And now I have left it too late. Her heart belongs to another.’

‘I am sorry.’ She turned away once more, allowing silence to fall between them as he held her. With idle fingers, she stroked his hand, her own skin numb to the jolt he felt at the touch. ‘I could always curse this other man, the one who holds her heart, if that is what you wish. Curses have always worked so well for me.’

He felt her smile against him, and he allowed himself a small chuckle, despite the pull on his heart. ‘No, I do not wish them ill. I love her. I think part of loving someone is wanting nothing more than for them to be happy.’

‘How incredibly selfless of you.’ She arched a solitary eyebrow. ‘Still, perhaps we are both too late. What a pair we will be together in such a case.’

‘You will only be too late once Philip has forced her into a wedding dress, and she’s surrounded by bawling infants.’ He felt her stiffen at even such a thought, and he squeezed her shoulder lightly. ‘You should tell her.’

‘Perhaps.’ She murmured, settling herself again against him, her thoughts too far to feel the race of his heart beside her. ‘You have always been a loyal friend, Diaval. I’m afraid I have never quite recognised such. What would you ask of me in thanks? If I could grant you anything?’

‘I want nothing more than for you to be happy.’

Maleficent turned again, to look at him curiously in silence. When she spoke, it was almost tender. ‘Perhaps you should tell her too.’

* * *

It was almost midnight when he stumbled upon them. They were sat by the water, captured in the idle light of the solitary moon, Maleficent’s great horned figure wrapped around the girl. They did not speak, enough to be together in silent conversation. He watched them until their lips met, and then he retreated, noiseless steps until the only evidence they had ever been seen was the sinking of his stomach, the cracking in his chest.

He would love her still. His blessing. His curse.


End file.
